about Zach. Go on to bed, Teej. We’ll talk in the morning.”
“Okay. G’night, Aunt Savannah. Thanks for standing up for me tonight.”
“I love you, TJ.”
He spoke so softly, she almost didn’t hear him. “I love you, too.”
Have a nice victimhood.
Dammit, she’d already been having second thoughts about going. Even as she’d carried the suitcase out to her car, she’d been thinking about how foolish she was being. How emotional.
She’d been thinking about trusting Zach.
Have a nice victimhood.
Abruptly she shoved to her feet. She went inside and quickly changed into running clothes and sneakers, knowing that numbness was her only hope of banishing his accusation from her mind. She ignored Inny’s excitement at seeing her don her shoes and left the dog shut inside as she took off. She ran west to Spruce Street, then north to Eighth and east over to Cottonwood, where she turned south. She ran hard, trying not to think, vaguely aware that tears flowed down her cheeks.
At the footbridge over the creek to Angel’s Rest, she heard herself sob. She stopped to catch her breath and marshal her defenses. Drawn by the soothing sound of rushing water, she moved to the center of the bridge, sank down, and with her legs folded crosswise, buried her head in her hands and sobbed.
And sobbed.
And sobbed.
Just when the arms came around to hold her, when the gentle hand pressed her head against the soft bosom, when the musical voice began to murmur, “Hush, child. There, there. It’s okay. Everything will be okay. Hush, child,” Savannah couldn’t say.
It was as if Grams had come down from heaven to offer her comfort when she needed it the most. “Oh, Grams. He is so angry at me. I hurt him.”
“Yes, you did,” Celeste Blessing said.
“I didn’t mean to hurt him. I was scared. I am scared. Why am I so scared? He told me to have a nice victimhood.”
“Ouch.”
“Is he right? Is that how I act? Who I am?”
“Do you honestly wish to know the answer?”
“Yes!”
“It will require some honest self-evaluation. Are you ready to look deep inside yourself, Savannah?”
“No,” she responded glumly. Honestly.
“You must open your heart and your mind to heal, my dear.”
“I’m scared.”
“Actually, you are strong, very strong, and you have come a long way. But you must open yourself to the truth if you are to heal that broken heart of yours.”
“The truth hurts,” Savannah replied, recalling her reaction to Zach’s accusations.
“Yes, but the pain from lies scars a soul, especially those lies told to oneself.” A hand softly stroked her head. “Why are you afraid, Savannah?”
“It’s easier than being courageous.”
“Now there is a truth. And yet you have shown much courage in your actions, have you not? You took control of your life. Now your challenge is to take responsibility for it.”
“What do you mean?”
“Being convicted of a crime you did not commit is a terrible injustice and one not to be minimized. That said, blaming others for the bad things that happen to you empowers the victim mentality, which damages vital parts of your life—ambitions, achievements, and the big one, relationships. From this day forward, you must seize control of that energy. Resolve to stop the blame game and take responsibility for your life. Try it for just one day to begin with. The difference, you’ll discover, is really remarkable. You will feel so much better about yourself.”
“I don’t feel bad about myself. Not anymore, anyway.”
When she’d first been released from jail, it had been a different story. She’d been a self-pity queen. She’d thought the whole world was against her, and she’d spent hours and hours thinking about how wrong things had gone and how people who professed to love her had let her down. You still spend hours thinking about how you can get revenge.
“Well, maybe I still have some work to do in that regard.”
“Recognizing that fact is an excellent step. Because the sooner you take responsibility for your life, the sooner you’ll feel gratitude for all the joys that fill it, and thus the sooner you’ll feel fortified for the most difficult task that awaits you.”
Love, Savannah thought.
“Forgiveness.”
“What?” Savannah pulled away. She twisted around to look incredulously at her companion—not Grams, as she’d pretended, but rather Celeste.
“Forgiveness. In order for your poor, wounded heart to heal, you must find forgiveness within it.”
“You want me to forgive who, the Vaughns?”
“Precisely. You are bound to them by your resentment. Isn’t it true that your thoughts return to them and the harm they did you